It Happened One Potions Class
by EllaMaeEfron
Summary: One day in Potions Class, Draco Malfoy is woken from his daydreaming and he smells Amortentia. What happens when he finds out who he smells? DG
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Just a quick little notie-note before the story- please review!! Thanks!

Luv,

Ella

"…Polyjuice Potion, sir." The voice jarred Draco Malfoy out of his daydream. _Of course, it's Granger showing off again,_ he thought. Every year she impressed the teachers with her "stunning knowledgibility of every subject!" quoting a professor that Draco overheard on one of his night-time jaunts around the castle. Did you know that the professors like to spend the time after hours wandering the halls? Well, know you do.

"Excellent, excellent! Now this one here… yes my dear?" said the _extremely_ overweight professor. What was his name again? Bugflorn? No. Smugnorn? No, that couldn't be it. Ah, yes. Slughorn. _Should've been Walrushorn,_ Draco thought with disgust. He giggled at his own wit. The other Slytherins sitting at his table looked around and stared at him, causing Draco to hastily turn his girlish giggle into a cough.

Now the Granger girl was talking again. "It's Amortentia!"

"It is indeed. It seems foolish to ask, but I assume you know what it does?" Slughorn asked, looking immensely impressed. _Of course, _thought Draco, _now Granger has Slughorn practically in love with her. Fortunately, I can see right through her whole "genius" act._

"It's the most powerful love potion in the world!" the girl shrilled.

"Quite right! You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"

"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," she said, continuing enthusiastically like she was describing something more interesting than this stupid potion, "and its supposed to smell differently to each of us according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and-" she broke off, blushing. _Wonder what she was going to say? Probably something having to do with Potter,_ Draco thought disgustedly. _The only people who can't tell that she loooooves Potty is Potty, Weasel, and Weasel's younger sister. They're all crazy. _Oh, how he hated Potty and Granger. Draco was so caught up in his own thoughts that he almost missed what happened next.

"May I ask your name, my dear?" Sluggyhorn, or whatever it was, asked.

"Hermione Granger, sir."

"Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"

"No, I don't think so, sir. I'm a Muggle-born, you see."

Draco leaned over to his neighbor and whispered in his ear. "I doubt that mud-blood's related to anything but it's own kind." They both snickered, but Slughorn did not notice.

"Oho! '_One of my best friends is a Muggle-born, and she's the best in our year!_' I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry?"

"Yes, sir," said the Potty.

"Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger," said Slughorn happily. Draco couldn't keep the look off of his face. He realized that he probably looked like he was just force-fed Slughorn. _If I was force-fed Slughorn I would look… really fat! _He giggled again, this time taking care to keep it silent. Just then a whiff of the Amortentia reached Draco's nose, causing him to drown out all of the conversation. It somehow reminded him simultaneously of his cook's pumpkin pie that was always served around Christmas during his childhood, a kind of flower that grew outside of his house, and a strange, overly sweet fruity smell that he couldn't quite place, among others. What could that fruity smell possibly be? Just then the bell rang, bringing Draco out of his thoughts one again.

That night Draco couldn't sleep. He couldn't figure out what that fruity scent could have been. He tried to make a mental list of all the seventh year girls in Slytherin. But then he realized that he could hardly remember their names. _That's odd. The only one I can remember is Parkinson, and she wears all kinds of really putrid perfume, but none of it smells like that did. _The scent in the Amortentia was actually very pleasant. _The rest of the Slytherin girls are pretty unattractive. There's no way I would fall in love with any of them._ Now that he was thinking about it, the rest of the Slytherins were all unattractive, too. Hideous, even. Draco realized that he was the only Slytherin that was even remotely good-looking. _Compared to the rest of these goons, I'm like Grade A Prime Choice Beef! _No wonder everybody else in the school hated Slytherins. And no wonder the other Slytherins hated Malfoy._ Except Parkinson. They should have named her Pigsy instead of Pansy. _Just thinking about the girl who was constantly trying to woo Draco made him shudder. And dry-heave. Actually, the rest of Slytherin house did seem to be angry at him for some reason lately. Even Crabbe and Goyle weren't speaking to him. _Oh, wait. They never speak. _Draco realized that he had never actually heard either of their voices. _I bet they sound like buffoons, cuz that's what they are! Wait a second. Buffoons aren't animals. What is it? Oh yeah. Baboons. _With these not-very-intelligent thoughts in mind, Draco drifted off into sleep, the Amortentia long since forgotten.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for reading the first chapter! I hope this one is up to par. Please review!

Luv,

Ella

P.S. In the first chapter I forgot the ever-important disclaimer: I did not create Harry P. & Co. J.K. takes the credit for that. Lucky duck.

Chapter 2

The next morning Draco was awoken by the sounds of someone howling. He blearily opened one eye and saw that Crabbe was hopping around on one foot shrieking in pain.

"Wh-wh-what happened?" asked Draco, yawning. Crabbe stopped hopping long enough to squeak, "Stubbed. Toe. On your. Damn. Mirror." Draco was taken aback by the fact that Crabbe sounded exactly like a combination of a dormouse and one of the house-elves that worked at Malfoy Manor. _Good Lord,_ he thought. _No wonder he never speaks._

Draco, figuring that now he was awake he might as well get up, pulled himself out of bed and threw on his robes. He stopped for a moment to preen in front of the mirror that he had managed to smuggle into Hogwarts- the very same that Crabbe stubbed his toe on. Draco figured that Crabbe must be a big wimp if he cried about stubbing his toe. He went down to the Great Hall, ignoring the hoards of admirers lined up outside his dormitory.

When he got to the Great Hall, he noticed that it was empty. _What the hell?_ He checked the watch that his parents sent him for his seventeenth birthday, the best that money could buy, that told the time in twelve different cities and the weather in five, and saw that it was only four-fifteen. _What the hell?_ he thought again. _Maybe that's why it was pitch black outside the window in our dormitory,_ he thought. But why had Crabbe been walking around at four in the morning? Pushing this thought out of his mind, he decided that he should see if he could sleep a little longer. He walked back up to his dormitory. When he reached the door, he noticed again the hoards of admirers. What were _they_ doing up at four? Now he was really confused. Just then he tripped over the hem of his robes and fell, cursing all the way. In knocked into one of the devotees and he fell, a big grin plastered on his face, flat on his face. But since the little groupies were so close to each other, the first one knocked into the second one, who knocked into the third one, and so on, triggering a chain reaction. Draco stood, utterly bewildered as noticed that the admirers were not, in fact, real, but they were cardboard-cutouts.

Now Draco was really confused. Maybe Crabbe had planned this whole thing? Maybe he had planted the groupies as a decoy, so Draco wouldn't notice that it was only four? But that would be an awful waste of time. _Why would anyone one put so much thought into a stupid little thing like that? Crabbe probably had to save up his thought for a year to plan this whole thing out_, he thought, cracking himself up. He pushed open the dormitory door to find that Crabbe was not in the small room. _Huh. Wonder where he went?_ But soon Draco stopped all thought as he spotted his nice, warm, soft, cozy bed and dove under the covers. He forgot all about the Crabbe dilemma as he fell asleep.

oOoOo

A few hours later, Draco woke up again. Noticing that he was the only one remaining in his dormitory, he jumped out of bed and ran down to the Great Hall, on his was noticing that the cardboard-cutouts had been cleared. When he reached the Great Hall, he was relieved to find that it was not empty. His mind was still a bit disoriented, though, so he sat down in the first empty seat he saw, which, he noticed a moment to late, was next to Pansy Parkinson's.

"Hiiiiii, Drakkie!" _Dammit!_ he thought, _Dammit Dammit Dammit all!_ "Did my wittle thnookumth thweep well?" she cooed. Draco had to physically restrain himself from making a very rude gesture at her. The clutched his arm so tightly that his fingers started to tingle. _Uuugh! Get your fat greasy paws off me! _he wanted to scream. _Wonderful. Now I'll have to boil myself to get rid of the coooooties._ Now she was… what the hell? She was nuzzling his arm! Draco very nearly threw up all over the table. He made a mental note to report Pansy to the Crazy Farm.

"Draco, my man! What's hangin'?" came a voice from behind him. Draco turned around, prepared to hug whoever it was who had interrupted Pansy's little love-fest.

"Blaise! Your timing is impeccable," he muttered, gesturing with his head toward Pansy, who had started to drool. Blaise Zabini. Draco had forgotten about him. Of course, people normally did. Blaise was the only person in the entire school (apart from Snape who seemed to have some sort of disgusting crush on Draco) who was decent to Draco. He had recently discovered surfing, and was trying his hardest to sound like one. He had even bought a book on Surfer Slang to try and learn the language.

Draco had always trusted Blaise, so he figured that he could trust him now. "C'mere, Blaise. Can I tell you something?" Draco led him away from Pansy the Puckerfish and told him the whole story, starting from the beginning.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Sorry it took so long to review! This stupid thing called school got in the way of FF writing. (sobs uncontrollably) Plus, I'm really tired, so if this chapter seems a little… er… strange, please don't get mad. (Ella cowers in fear as angry mob breaks down her door) Thank you everyone who's reviewed! And thank you to everyone who is _going_ to review after they read this chapter! (hint, hint) Please! I want to make sure that everybody likes my story! Thanks again!

Ella

P.S. Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. I'll _try_ to make this one a little longer. Note the keyword try. I'm not making any promises here.

Heart y'all!

**Disclaimer**: Characters are JKR's. Plot's mine. You know the drill.

oOoOo

Chapter 3

Blaise was staring at Draco open mouthed. But he quickly shut it once he realized that Draco had finished talking a few minutes ago and was now waving his hand in front of his face.

"Errr… sorry. I kind of lost you after the 'cardboard cutouts' bit." He fell into a lapse of girlish giggles, quite like Draco's the day before. "So you _actually_ thought that the obviously two-dimensional cardboard cutouts were _real people_?" The sixteen-year-old was now laughing uncontrollably.

"Well, seeing as I _normally_ have an entourage of people following me wherever I go, I deem it as perfectly _normal_ that I thought that the cardboard people were real," he harrumphed. (A/N: Tee hee! Apparently that actually is a word!) "And stop laughing at me! I was tired!" He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted like a little child.

"All right, all right. Stop sulking, you big baby," Blaise said, finally calming down and wiping away a stray tear. "You have to admit, it's pretty funny, though."

"No."

"What?"

"_No_."

"Yeah, I heard you. What do you mean, _no_?"

"No, I refuse to admit that it's pretty funny."

Blaise slapped himself on the forehead. "You just did, dimwit." Before the conversation could go any further, however, trouble arrived in the name of Pansy Parkinson. She scowled down at them.

"DRAKKIE-WAKKIE!" she screamed. "HOW COULD YOU WALK AWAY FROM ME LIKE THAT?" By now the entire school was looking at her. Blaise whispered something into Draco's ear.

"Whaaat? Sorry, I can't hear out of that ear, thanks to _someone_," he shot a look at Pansy, "just started screaming. Oh, sorry Pansy, I think you might want to say that again. There might have been some people in Mongolia who didn't hear you the first time." Draco and Blaise watched, amused as Pansy's face cycled through the colors of the rainbow, first turning red, then purple, then white, then slightly green.

"What (sniff) do you (sniff) mean?"

"What I mean, _Pansy_, is that I am breaking up with you. Oh, wait, silly me, how could I have forgotten. WE WERE NEVER TOGETHER. It was all in yo' head, girl! Peace out, man! Word!" He made a peace sign and walked out of the Great Hall.

"Oh-ho-ho man that was brilliant!" Blaise followed Draco out of the Great Hall and patted him on the back.

"Err… thanks. I guess. Wow, I never thought I'd feel so crappy after "breaking up" with the Pans-meister."

"It's okay, man. Just let it out," Blaise said soothingly, rubbing circles on Draco's back. _The hell?_ Draco thought.

"Uhh… Blaise? I just "broke up" with my "girlfriend", not gave birth," he said, putting air-quotations around the words 'broke up' and 'girlfriend'.

"Oh. Right," said Blaise, quickly removing his hand from Draco's back and blushing crimson. By now they had reached the Slytherin common room. They both sat down on a couch together.

"So, back to what we were talking about. The whole getting-up-early thing," Blaise said.

"Right. What do you think it means? And why the hell was Crabbe up then?"

"I really have no clue, but I'm really tired. I'm gonna go take a nap." He started towards the dormitories. "Wait a second- Draco, what day is it?"

"Um… Wednesday?"

"Shit! We have to get to class!" The boys ran out of the Common Room and to their first class, which, thankfully, was Defense Against the Dark Arts with Snape. They bounded through the door ten minutes late.

"Mr. Zabini! You didn't think that you could get away with _skipping class_, could you?!" (AN: I tried to make it an interobang, but it didn't really work.) Snape seemed not to have noticed that Draco was standing right next to Blaise. Then again, Draco probably could have skipped every class for a year to go drinking in a muggle pub and Snape wouldn't have cared. It's moments like these when one is thankful for teacher-crushes.

"I- uh, I-" Blaise stammered.

"No need for your petty excuses. Late one more time and I'll deduct points," Snape threatened. Draco saw Potter whisper something to Ron and they both scowled at Snape. Draco smirked. "Well? Why are you still standing there, Zabini? Sit down!" barked Snape. The two boys hurried to the Slytherin table, glancing at each other as they sat down. This was going to be a looooong year.

oOoOo

A/N: Okay, there. Finished another chapter. (Ella lies down panting like she just ran twenty miles) Hopefully it was a little longer… Damn, I think it's still shorter. Whatever. I figgered you guys would rather have a short update with less waiting than a longer update with more waiting. Maybe the next one will be shorter… et cetera, et cetera, et cetera, to quote _The King and I_. Okay, I better go sleep now. I think I'm going delirious.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Hello again! I'm _finally_ updating! I really, really, _really_ need to update the other stories, but I like this one best, so it's on my priority list. I know the other chappies were kind of wierd. Okay, the third one was _totally wacko_, but that's okay. Right? Well, if you like that kind of thing, you'll like this chapter. And that's all I'll say. Oh, yeah, and I have this website called http://mugglefantasies. and I'd really _really_ appreciate it if you joined. Please! It will be fun. I promise. Oh yes, of course: Please review, my lovelies!

Luv, Ella

**Dislaimer:** Je ne own pas HP. That means I don't own Harry Potter.

oOoOo

Chapter 4

A month had passed since the cardboard cutout incident, and Draco and Blaise had all but forgotten it. They had survived numerous run-ins with Pansy, one involving some old gym socks and a bowl of egg salad, but let's not get into that. Snape had lapsed into his normal routine of worshipping the Slytherins, ("Maybe he was just PMSing that day," sniggered Blaise behind his hand) and all was well. Until that one fateful day.

Draco had been sleeping peacefully when all of a sudden he was woken with a bucket of ice water thrown over his head. He sputtered and looked around at the people surrounding him. They all had pieces of black cloth stretched over their faces, with eye and mouth holes cut out.

"HUMMA-HUMMA-LOOKA-LAKA-HUMMA-DUNG-DANG!" they yelled in unison. Two of the larger masked men picked Draco up by his feet and arms and carried him out of the dormitory. They took him to a room he hadn't even known existed.

"TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF!" they bellowed. "STRIP! STRIP! STRIP! STRIP!" They started chanting. Draco was thoroughly perplexed as to what was happening. He stood up on a handily placed table and yelled for silence.

"OKAY YOU DIMWITS, I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON, BUT YOU BUFFOONS BETTER SHUT UP RIGHT NOW OR I'LL… DO SOMETHING TO YOU ALL!" He knew this was a feeble threat, but the idiots surrounding him seemed scared, because they all quieted immediately. "Okay," Draco said, still standing on the table, "now that we have some peace and quiet, I want you fools to tell me what you're doing?!" (AN: Again, an attempt at and interrobang.)

"Wait a second," came the high voice from under one of the masks, "Draco?"

"Well, who do you think you were pulling out of bed at this ungodly hour?!"

"Dammit, guys. We got the wrong room," said Crabbe, pulling off his mask. The boys started to file out of the room, looking disappointed. Draco couldn't help himself.

"Um, hold on a second, there, fellows. What exactly were you trying to do?"

"We were trying to introduce the newbies to the Quidditch team," said Goyle, pulling off his own mask.

"Umm… right. You guys go do whatever you were going to do," he said, waving them out the door.

A few minutes later, as Draco was settling back into his bed, after changing into dry pajamas, he was sure he could have heard voices shouting "HUMMA-HUMMA-LOOKA-LAKA-HUMMA-DUNG-DANG!"

oOoOo

Another week passed without incident. One day after class, Draco was walking to lunch when a distinct smell passed his nose. That smell seemed familiar. Where had he smelled it before? It was really sweet… and fruity. Very, very, fruity. But he knew he had smelled it before…

OOoOo

After lunch it hit him. He had smelled that overly fruity smell in the Amortentia. He had come this close to figuring out what it was, and he had let it get away. Draco mentally kicked himself. He could only hope that he ever smelled it again.

oOoOo

The next week Draco was innocently standing in the corridor, leaning against the wall when a gaggle of Gryffindor fifth years passed him, giggling all the while. _Ugh_, Draco thought, _stupid Gryffindors. They're always so… happy. They have no real problems like us Slytherins._ He was just getting into his mental put down on all Gryffindors when that fruity smell hit his nose again. _Oh. No. Please, please, puh-lease don't tell me I fancy one of those blubbering idiots!_ But no matter what he said, he knew that he would have to face the facts: one of the stupid Gryffindor girls was the one he desired. _But which one?_ He asked himself. _There had to be thirty girls in that mob!_ Of course, he was exaggerating a little, but not by much. Suddenly, he thought of an idea. Now to just find Professor Snape…


End file.
